M&M Madness
by chocolatebearturk
Summary: Who knew that a little package of M&M's would be his ultimate downfall? NACY; PHM Challenge #3/4 response.


_M&M Madness_  
(by POTR)

_a/n: Sorry that this isn't exactly what I promised, suburbs. This came out of a discussion about M&M's with my mom—about how everyone eats them in a pattern. You don't exactly get to see that here, but I tried._

**Challenge #3: I'm going to go with #7, shell. Or LaPaige's #101, writer's choice (in this case, M&M's), seeing as the shell reference doesn't come in till the end.**

**Challenge #4: Prompt #3: Knowledge is power. Once again, the reference is obscure, but at least it fits better than the other! xD I promise a better response next time!**

If one questioned Nick—persistently, because he would refuse to answer at first—one would find out that he started to… _notice_ Macy when he saw her eat M&M's for the first time.

You see, Macy presented herself in a haphazard way, and that was not something that Nick was comfortable with. He liked his life to have order and organization, and Macy didn't seem to bring that into his life. If anything, she seemed to turn everything upside down.

Although Nick knew she was involved in as many team sports as the school had to offer (or pretty much any sport that didn't conflict with her already tight schedule), she didn't seem to be half as organized off the field as she was during a game. Nick _did_ admit that, although it was dangerous to be around her when she was carrying sporting equipment, the rare cases that she wasn't, she was actually very sweet. Until she started hyperventilating. Or until she fainted. Or fell over.

And she seemed to do those things _often_, more often around Nick than either of his brothers.

Stella said that she liked him.

Nick said that he'd believe it when the words "of JONAS" were no longer a suffix for his name.

(Which they weren't; but he wasn't about to tell Stella, if she hadn't already noticed.)

He wasn't exactly the _happiest_ person in the world when he found out that Macy was in his history class when they started back after winter break. Nor was he _happy_ when his teacher volunteered him to tutor the girl when she started having trouble with the work. But he really liked Mrs. Holte, as she was one of the few teachers that liked him for his _class_ work and not because of his _life's_ work.

Mrs. Holte promised him that it wouldn't be too strenuous.

_She's really very smart—she just learns in a hands-on sort of way and I don't have time to teach that in class. Please, Nick? I know that she's friendly with you and your brothers or I wouldn't have asked. There's really more to her than sports and JONAS worship._

And he wouldn't have believed it, if the evidence wasn't staring him in the face.

You see, Nick liked to observe things. He went about it in an almost scientific way, noting subtle changes in behavior or manner of dress and speech. He liked to watch people, and he liked to know things. Knowledge is power, after all.

So he observed Macy.

(And no, observing isn't _NOTICING_. When he first started observing her, his thoughts weren't like that at all. Besides that, it would ruin the point of all this if he started _noticing_ her before the first time he saw her eating M&M's, wouldn't it?)

At first, he didn't really see any difference. She was still graceful on the field and graceless when she knew he was around. She was still sweet—until she started fangirling. She was the same Macy.

But… then he started to notice the way she put her hair in two pigtails whenever she played a sport—except football, when she just let her hair down altogether. He noticed that she seemed to be sore after practices, limping around on a bad leg or favoring an arm when she carried her books. But she never complained once about the pain, even though it was visible in her face at times. One day, when he found her struggling with her equipment as she limped down the hall, he actually had the urge to move _toward_ her instead of running in the opposite direction. So he did. He took some of the things she was struggling with, much to the girl's relief (although she did have a mild panic attack at first), and helped her take them to the gym. Crisis averted. He emerged without a scratch.

Then he noticed that she seemed to dress down when she was feeling under the weather. She had a case of the sniffles, so she wore a pair of slacks to school instead of her skirt. When she woke with a headache, she came to school in a dark grey hoodie that only managed to get under the uniform radar because it had her team number on the back. So one day, when she seemed to be coming down with a bad cough, Nick found himself shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over her shoulders. While she tried to keep herself from hyperventilating, he merely gave her a knowing smile and took off for his next class.

He noticed that she chewed her eraser when she was thinking and that she got things better if he tried to lay them out in front of her. Baseball analogies worked the best, because they both new so much about the sport. But football worked just as well when they talked about the Revolutionary War.

He noticed that she twirled her hair around when she wasn't concentrating. She got this far-off look in her eyes and sometimes it would take a physical nudge to bring her back to reality. Then she would blush and refuse to explain what she'd been thinking about, merely laying apology after apology on his curious ears.

He noticed that she seemed to stare at his face when she was nervous, rather than at her shoes or the ground. (And he tried valiantly not to inflate his own ego by thinking that she probably found more comfort in staring at his face than staring at the floor.)

When Macy sulked and pouted over having to watch her mother's store during the time they normally had their tutoring sessions, he saw it as a perfect opportunity. He would get to observe her in her own environment, something he rarely got the chance to do with the people he knew outside his family.

"Why don't we just study at the store?" Nick suggested that fateful afternoon. "It's usually not very busy on Thursdays, right?"

"Well, no," Macy said. She seemed to be confused. To be honest, he was just a little confused himself. Why did he want to see Macy at the store so badly? The last time he'd spent a more than twenty minutes in _Misa's Pieces_, he had ended up a running a marathon as angry fans chased him and his family down the street for running out of potato salad.

He decided to attribute his eagerness once again to his old standby: Knowledge is power. (Or maybe 'know thine enemy'?)

Macy began speaking again and he hastened to listen. "I just… what if you get mobbed again? And don't you have something better to do than review material on the Constitutional Convention?"

"If I stopped to think about it? Maybe," Nick admitted. Macy's brow furrowed and she was about to give him a snippy reply when he continued. "But I committed myself to teaching you about American History, and I don't break promises. I'll meet you after school and we'll walk down together, okay?"

She just nodded; still dazed by the idea that he would be spending the afternoon with her _at the store_—_not_ at school, _not_ at the firehouse, _not_ with Stella and his brothers there to breathe down their necks.

Admittedly, the walk wasn't the most normal. Though they had had countless tutoring sessions together, most of them happened at school, were there was a constant awareness of being watched, or at the fire house, where the others were a distraction. They never truly had a chance to talk alone, one on one, without having to worry about other people listening.

It became very clear very quickly that they were truly polar opposites. Macy was bright and cheery whereas Nick was solemn and slightly cynical. Macy had the gift of gab where Nick absolutely did not. She chattered on and on, making wonderful conversation that Nick could only respond to with short, albeit constructive, answers. It wasn't a voluntary thing for either of them; it was just the way they were. But it was oddly comfortable. Macy filled up the silence and Nick listened carefully. They balanced in the oddest of ways and this was something the boy noted with a strange elation.

When they got to the store, a silence fell over them. It wasn't uneasy, but it wasn't comfortable either. Nick watched as Macy prepared the store for the afternoon, putting up the 'OPEN' sign and counting the till. It was strange to see her going through these motions after spending all afternoon imagining what it would be like. It was eerily similar to what he had pictured, but different, too.

They set up their work at the counter and Macy asked him suddenly, "Do you want something to eat? After the last… incident, I got my mom to spring for a mini-fridge in the back. I've got milk and sugar-free cookies."

Nick stared at her, wondering how she could have possibly been that prepared, unless she just liked sugar-free. But… no one did.

"Oh!" Macy said. She seemed to read his mind when she continued, "I called my mom during lunch and asked her to go out and get some sugar-free stuff. I usually eat after school instead of during lunch, and it would have been rude if I didn't have anything to offer you."

He still said nothing, unable to believe that she had gone to so much trouble to make him comfortable. Then, deciding that if _she_ was going to put out so much effort that _he_ should, too, he said, "I think I'll take you up on that offer, Macy."

The way she grinned was reward enough.

(But, like we said, it didn't warm him as much as the way she grinned later. Because he still hadn't _NOTICED_ her yet.)

She brought back the milk and cookies (which, to Nick's chagrin, were actually homemade. He hasn't figured that one out, either!) and they started working on the Convention. But after half an hour, Macy was _still_ confused.

"I'm still confused," she complained, slumping on her stool and leaning partially on him. The past weeks had dulled her usually hyper-aware senses and it was still a little strange for Nick that he was able to touch her and not have to catch her before she fainted. He nudged her playfully and she sat up with a little grin, although it was wry. "None of this stuff will stick in my head—this is why I'm no good at English. I'm too hands-on for this."

She sighed heavily and reached under the counter. After a moment of rustling, she came up with two individual packets of M&M's. She handed one to Nick and began to open one herself.

"I like to have something chocolaty to nibble on when I get confused," she explained. Suddenly, she looked nervous. "That's not going to affect your diabetes, is it? I don't know much about it—just that you can't have loads of sugar."

"I think I'll be fine. I can afford to eat a handful of M&M's," he assured her. He set his aside for the moment, deciding instead to watch her.

The brunette grinned a little sheepishly and gently poured a few into her hand. She didn't toss them back right away, like his brothers and Stella did, however. She laid them on the table and looked at them—she'd gotten two red candies and one yellow. Then, without a second thought, she picked up a red M&M and turned to look at her book. She said, "Do you think they really put a guard on old Franklin?"

"I don't know," said Nick. He shifted a little in his seat, eyes still carefully trained on her. "I suppose if the book says so, it's true."

Macy giggled a little, pressing the red candy to her lips for a moment.

(We told you it was coming—so here it is!)

And _that_ was when Nick noticed one of the most important things he could about Macy.

_Her pink, plump, pouty lips._

She finally slipped the M&M into her mouth and said around it, "I think that would be an odd job. Having to make sure some old coot doesn't blow the lid off their little meetings."

Nick merely nodded, unable to think of an adequate response. There was about a minute of total silence as Macy read the rest of that particular passage, unaware of the way Nick was staring at her as she sucked on the little morsel of chocolate. That was something else to be noted; that she let the candy sit in her mouth until it melted. Nick wasn't sure what that meant for her, but it was quickly becoming clear that his afternoon plans had changed drastically. This was not going to be the quiet, observational study hour he'd planned.

It was going to be hell.

His Adam's apple bobbed when she reached for the yellow M&M.

"Okay, here," Macy said suddenly, sliding the book so that he could see what she was pointing to. Glad of the distraction, Nick bent over the counter to have a look. "In this passage, they're talking about how Madison helped put everything together, right?"

She went on to explain her problem and for a few glorious minutes, Nick forgot entirely about the M&M's and about noticing and observing and only thought about explaining what was confusing her.

"Do you get it now?" he asked, smirking a little. Macy smirked back.

"Yes, I understand, all-mighty Nick, God of American History," she deadpanned.

He scoffed. "No need to be so sarcastic, Mace!"

She giggled and he laughed a little bit. There was something of an awkward silence after that before Macy pulled her book back and picked up the other red candy that was lying on the table.

And begin Nick's personal hell once more.

But this time, it wasn't just her lips. When she shifted on her stool, he noticed the way she moved, her hips, her legs stretching next to his. He noticed the way her back arched as she tried to stretch and rid herself of a pain that had settled in the small of her back. He noticed the way her neck curved in profile and the way her hair swept across her shoulders. Then he noticed something that caught him _completely_ off-guard.

"You're left-handed?" he asked incredulously. He forgot for a moment that Macy had no idea that he'd been watching—_OBSERVING_—her all afternoon (and for some time before) and reached across the open books to take up the offending hand in his own. Her blush didn't seem to faze him. "But you bat right-handed!"

"You've seen me bat?"

Her eyes were wide and a little fearful—but what did she have to be afraid of?

"Of course I have!" Nick said. "I… Stella's dragged me to a few of your games. How can you write left-handed but play right-handed?"

Macy blinked a little, as if clearing her head. She seemed to come to herself after a moment, though, because she smiled and said, "That's how my dad taught me. He was right-handed, so he insisted I play right-handed. I can really do both equally well, but I can't write with my right hand at all."

To demonstrate, she switched her pencil into her right hand and he could see from the awkward way she gripped it that she was telling the truth.

"Okay, I believe you," Nick said.

Macy laughed and went to switch back, but dropped the pencil on the ground. "Ah, nerks!"

Nick's eyebrows raised in amusement, but the will to chuckle disappeared when Macy leaned over in her seat to pick up the pencil. He couldn't help but _stare_. Was there anything about her that wasn't attractive? Maybe she had bunions. Or athlete's foot.

_No,_ Nick thought, _they wouldn't let her on the swim team if she had something like that._

"That's weird; I can't find it," Macy's voice reached his ears just as he was trying to convince himself that her butt wasn't really _that_ cute and that there was no reason WHATSOEVER for him to reach out and— "Could you come down here and help me?"

He swallowed—_bad thoughts! Stop with the bad thoughts!_—and slid off the stool to crouch next to Macy. Before he could even ask where to look for the pencil, however, the girl knocked him quite literally on his back.

Her mouth was pressed firmly over his and he immediately responded with a fervor that she hadn't expected, rolling them around so that she was trapped underneath him. It was a long, _long_ time before either of them needed air—he was a singer and she was the star of the swim team. But when they finally broke apart, it was because Nick realized what was happening.

"Whoa," he said. "What was _that_?"

Macy rolled her eyes and stretched up her head to give the boy a peck on the cheek. "I couldn't take the suspense! Stella's been hinting for weeks that you like me—"

"I'm going to kill that girl," Nick muttered.

"Not if it means you'll end up looking like a lemon-lime disaster," insisted the brunette. "Anyway, I didn't believe her until you gave me your jacket last Tuesday—"

"Hey, now," Nick said. "That was a favor for a friend."

"Uh-huh," Macy said, "a friend."

She arched up and kissed the boy again, moving her lips and body in a way that had the boy groaning. He supported himself with one arm so he wouldn't crush the tiny girl under him and slid the other under her waist to pull her against him.

They both new perfectly well that Macy had kissed him again to prove a point, but his passionate response surprised her. Her lips parted slightly and he only hesitated a moment before sliding his tongue into her mouth, probing the sweet, delicious cavern as though trying to commit it to memory. Now it was Macy's turn to moan and she flipped them again so she could rest atop his chest. She could hear the sharp breath he took in through his nose and smiled a little into the kiss. His hands ran up and down her back, finding her hair and tracing patterns through her shirt.

Finally, they broke apart again, gasping for air.

"How…" Nick began. "How long?"

"Physically? For_ever_," Macy gasped. "Emotionally? Since the day we met. You?"

"I started to realize when Mrs. Holte insisted I tutor you, but I'm pretty sure for just as long as you," said the curly-haired boy. "I didn't really pay attention until today."

Macy snorted. "I guess all it took was a few M&M's to break through your crunchy candy shell."

"I resent that!"

**fin**

_a/n: Major thanks to LaPaige and secretfunnelcake, my betas on this. They were amazing and assured me that it was perfect. I'm still not sure, but I thank you both greatly for your reassurances._

_I'm going to tell you right now that I want to see all of my readers flooding en masse to secretfunnelcake's page to have a look at her stories. They are epic and awesome. And the same for LaPaige!_

_Much love and thanks,  
Beth_


End file.
